


Under The Dim Light

by kkeutkaji (space_in_between)



Category: UNIQ (Band)
Genre: Fluff without Plot, M/M, Yixuan is a model and Sungjoo is a band vocalist, i'm sorry if all details are vague i just want them to cuddle in a luxurious bedroom, just two oldies being soft at each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 18:18:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14431386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/space_in_between/pseuds/kkeutkaji
Summary: Being with Sungjoo helps Yixuan relaxes a bit, resting from the uproarious competitive modeling world. Being with Sungjoo is calm, like having a cup of coffee in bare face after a long day of photoshoot under a thick layer of makeup. Being with Sungjoo is where Yixuan wants to be, most of the time.





	Under The Dim Light

**Author's Note:**

> i think i'm gonna write more to this universe so??? let's just. wait and see. lmao ;;; /sweats nervously

It’s almost two in the morning when Yixuan’s doorbell rings, and Yixuan can’t hide his surprise when he sees Sungjoo standing there, leaning one shoulder on the doorframe with a seductive smile when Yixuan opens the door for him.

“Sungjoo,” Yixuan breathes, relief is distinct on his voice. He was surprised just a minute ago, really, but when he sees Sungjoo’s face Yixuan feels like he’s found something he’s been yearning of. Sungjoo is only standing there though, his sensual facade breaks into a bubbly laughter only five seconds later, and he steps forward to give Yixuan a hug.

“I’m glad you’re not complaining I’m coming here at two in the morning,” Sungjoo says, pecking Yixuan’s cheek lightly and stooping down to take off his shoes. He puts them on the shelf carefully so he doesn’t knock down any of Yixuan’s expensive shoes collection that he has to bring wherever he goes for his runway events.

“I  _ was  _ just going to ask,” Yixuan says. He locks the door and turns around, “So, what are you doing in my hotel room at two in the morning without even calling me before?”

“It’s because I want to give you a surprise!” Sungjoo throws his arms to the air as he pushes his bottoms onto a lavish, mocha coloured leather couch. “Oh, dear, your agency is the best, babe, really. This couch is so comfortable, can I sleep here tonight?”

“Why sleep on the couch when you can have the bed,” Yixuan rolls his eyes. He follows Sungjoo to the couch and taps on his thigh to give him some room. Sungjoo shifts and pulls Yixuan down to sit beside him, half forcing Yixuan to rest his head on Sungjoo’s shoulder. The position is awkward because Yixuan is taller, but that doesn’t really matter. For a few minutes, the two enjoy hearing each other’s soft breathing, enveloped by silence. Yixuan loves how both of them always take some time to appreciate each other’s presence by doing literally nothing, just sitting together wordlessly, but for Yixuan it speaks so many unspoken words between them.

And of course, Sungjoo has to be the one who breaks the sacred silence with his ridiculous request.

“Babe, can you help me dye my hair?”

  
  
  


 

If there’s something Yixuan can’t believe he’s actually doing when he’s still completely sober, it’s dyeing his boyfriend’s hair to  _ purple _ at the crack ass of dawn in the bathroom of his luxurious hotel room in the heart of London.

“I can’t believe this,” Yixuan says as he sprays water to rinse the remaining chemical from Sungjoo’s head after he’s done with all the process, “are you really coming here to ask me to colour your hair purple? At two in the morning?”

The purple head beneath him nods. “I have job at ten.”

“Singing for an event?”

Sungjoo shakes his head. “It’s a guerilla show, Seungyoun’s idea. He said we should start tasting the road of London while we still could because we have to fly back to Seoul in two days. And I think it’s not a bad idea, but I need something eccentric to stand out in the crowd.”

Yixuan smiles, it’s pretty reasonable. Sungjoo is a vocalist and leader of an indie band and somehow the members have enough connections to be able to bring their music out of South Korea where the band was first established. It always amazes Yixuan how Sungjoo is often able to take a gig offer at the place where Yixuan is working—as a runway model Yixuan doesn’t have a perpetual place to work, he constantly moving around, flying in and out of the country—even though he has found out that’s because Sungjoo wants to spend as much time as possible with him because Yixuan’s schedule is usually very inhumanly packed.

“You still have time to go to a hair salon and dye your hair there instead of coming here so late,” Yixuan comments.

“Aw, babe. Come on, it only takes 30 minutes at most, it’s not even that long.”

“I’m saying exactly because it only takes 30 minutes to do this.”

Sungjoo looks up and gives Yixuan his best kicked-puppy look. “And not spending 30 minutes with you? In this expensive hotel room? I don’t want to sound smart but nope, thank you.”

Yixuan laughs, grabbing the nearest towel and throwing it at Sungjoo’s face. “Are you doing this for the sake of me, or you just want to have a taste of the place I’m staying in?”

“Both,” Sungjoo grins. He gets up and steals a kiss on Yixuan’s lips before exiting the bathroom—walking casually in nothing but a pair of sweatpants that actually belong to Yixuan, so they come a little baggy on him. If anything, it only makes Sungjoo look sexier, so Yixuan doesn’t complain (not even when he knew Sungjoo stole them from his closet when Yixuan was preparing the bathroom).

“Do you have something to drink?” Sungjoo asks from the couch. “Don’t give me tea. If there’s something I want to avoid in London, that’s tea.”

“Why?” Yixuan chuckles and walks to the fridge, contemplating the things he has inside the fridge that will not offend Sungjoo’s sensitive taste bud. Sungjoo has always been a picky at food and drinks, and his complain is longer than the Great Wall of China so Yixuan prefers not to trigger him first. “We’re in UK, a big community who  _ loves  _ tea.”

Sungjoo scrunches his nose, “Still a no, thank you.”

Yixuan’s smile hasn’t disappeared from his lips when he pulls out a tall, green bottle from inside a paper bag right beside his fridge. “Oh,” he sighs when he notices the thing on his hand, “I forgot I got this today. Are you in the mood for some wine, love?”

  
  
  


 

The continuation is pretty easy to guess.

Sungjoo and Yixuan sit on Yixuan’s king-sized bed, one hand holding a glass of wine. It’s almost four and Yixuan starts feeling sleepy—the tiredness from all the events running weeks before he flew to London, the pressure of being one of the few people walking on the runway for the biggest and most anticipated fashion show in London, the expectation to stand under the spotlight, everything that comes along with his profession, the days he spent without Sungjoo on his side, all of them kick in at once like a goddamn anesthetic—and Sungjoo is warm despite not wearing a top and the air conditioner is on.

“I missed you,” Sungjoo suddenly says. “I know it’s stupid to keep dragging my kids out to the other fucking side of the world only to get to you, and I know that one day I need to stop, but right now it’s the only thing I can do. I wouldn’t stop doing this even if you told me to.”

“I know,” Yixuan replies, resting his head on Sungjoo’s shoulder. His hair is still partly wet and it tickles Yixuan’s ear. “I know and I’m thankful because you keep doing this, and I know you’d still be doing this even if I told you not to. I’m thankful because even though you know you’ll stop someday, you haven’t stopped today.”

Sungjoo smiles, resting his free arm on Yixuan’s shoulder and pressing a kiss on top of his head. “I love you,” he whispers. “Wherever you are is where I want to be. It sounds really weird and cheesy for people in our age, though, so I will not say it often.”

Yixuan chuckles and nods. “It goes the same for me too,” he says. It’s true. Being with Sungjoo helps Yixuan relaxes a bit, resting from the uproarious competitive modeling world. Being with Sungjoo is calm, like having a cup of coffee in bare face after a long day of photoshoot under a thick layer of makeup. Being with Sungjoo is where Yixuan wants to be, most of the time. “Will you still love me even without my fancy clothes and glittery eyeshadow?”

“Of course,” Sungjoo almost chokes on his wine, “I will still love you even when you only wear your pyjama pants and loose T − shirt and cook eggs for our breakfast on my rusty kitchen back in my apartment in Korea.”

“Babe, you need to move out of that place soon. That place is unhealthy.”

“Okay, okay, but you get my point.”

Yixuan laughs. “Will you still love me even when the lights are dimmed, and people aren’t shouting my name like crazy when they see me?”

“Of course, I have loved you since before the spotlight was all over you, and the only one who’d scream your name was me, on bed, for an entirely different context.”

Yixuan smacks Sungjoo’s head, and now Sungjoo is laughing so hard until his shoulders are shaking.

“We will love each other today, tomorrow, the day after, until we’re both grey and old and you’re not a model and I’m not a band singer anymore. Okay? Now give me your glass, we’re about to sleep very peacefully for five hours straight.” Sungjoo puts his glass down on the nightstand and takes Yixuan’s glass to put it on the side of his.

“Should I be a little disappointed that we’re going straight to sleep? I was expecting something spicy,” Yixuan rolls his eyes. He smirks when he sees Sungjoo’s expression changes.

“I was thinking about giving you a head but it would ruin the wine taste on my tongue, so later,” Sungjoo grins after spending thirty seconds to think and leans in to kiss Yixuan’s lips soundly. “Also, I prefer to have sex when the sun is out.”

Yixuan chuckles softly as Sungjoo pulls the sheet to cover both of them. Yixuan runs a hand on Sungjoo’s newly purple hair, smiling.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“For what?”

“Everything,” Yixuan shrugs. “My life is rough as it is. But ever since I’m with you, I feel like I can breathe a little easier.”

Sungjoo smiles back and twists his body to turn off the light, leaving them in complete darkness and the glimpse of city light from outside the window. The city is still asleep, and it’s peaceful. Yixuan feels his heart might explode from contentment.

“I think I’ve done a good thing by coming here,” Sungjoo says, covering his mouth when he yawns. “Don’t you think so?”

“I do,” Yixuan nods as he slowly drifts off to sleep. “I absolutely do.”


End file.
